


Comatose

by HorseSparks



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But he isn't dead!, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Jean's POV, M/M, ghost!Marco, jean swears a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorseSparks/pseuds/HorseSparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to find somewhere else to live wouldn't usually be seen as something difficult. But when it was my time to go, I wasn't expecting to share my new apartment with a stranger I didn't even know. </p><p>Did I mention I'm the only one that can see him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving on out

**Author's Note:**

> Because who doesn't get inspired by weird sappy romcoms?

Did you know that finding a place to live that suited every little one of your needs isn’t exactly the easiest task in the world? I found out the hard way. Like seriously, I know what you would all say, probably something along the lines of “Jean Kirschtein, you’re a twenty five year old man, get over yourself and just settle down somewhere blah blah blah.” That’s exactly what I was _trying_ to do, but I never thought it would be so hard! I hadn’t had a job in six months and finding a new one wasn’t quite working out as smoothly as I hoped. So I did the next best thing, mooching off of friends who could actually deal with my shit, such a hard life I know. But I think Sasha and Connie finally got tired of me eating the entire mass storage of food in the fridge and leaving my dirty socks around the house. On accident might I add- I swear the little fuckers just get up and walk away from the dirty laundry pile on their own.  Don’t pretend you’ve never been confused about where the sock between the couch cushions had come from.

But I guess that was my cue to get the fuck out of there and find my own place with the remains of my savings account. The _main_ problem was that I was really fussy with what I was looking for on the market. I needed a furnished place because fuck you if you thought I was going to spend money I didn’t even have on shitty ass, second hand furniture. Just nothing I had seen so far felt _right_.

And that’s how I ended up in a huge ass apartment that had the most uncomfortable fucking couch known to man. I looked up and gave my real estate agent the most unimpressed face I could muster before I stood back up and headed towards the exit.

“Are you sure there isn’t anywhere else around here? Something that’s actually fucking comfortable?” I groaned, rubbing my temples out of frustration. This was the fifth place I had checked out today, but there was always something that just bothered me. Especially that one place three blocks from where I am now that had a couch that was way too rigid and placed between two fucking naked statues of guys. I could admire art, but when I’m being a couch potato I’d rather not see a marbled ass on both sides of my peripheral vision.

I walked out of that place as fast as I could, not listening to the babbling coming from behind me about how I should be happy that such a place was up for rent. I just wanted something simple, not fancy. That’s when it hit me. Quite fucking literally too, you wouldn’t be laughing if I got a paper cut, because just as I was about to whine at my agent, I was hit on the side of the face by a small A5 piece of paper that must have flown over from the other side of the street.

It was advertising an apartment to let just across the road. I’d already checked out so many places that day that one more surely wouldn’t hurt. I walked across the road in long strides as I avoided the few cars that were passing. The building looked nice enough from the outside and after crossing I passed the piece of paper over to my agent who had quickly caught up with me. Her name was Petra and she was nice enough, even if she thought I was rude, but who didn’t. I laughed inwardly to myself as she sighed in defeat, calling the number on the advertisement as I focused on asking the landlord for access to look around.

I guess it went well because 24 hours later, there I was, laid out across my new couch- Wearing nothing but a plain grey tank top which had a cigarette burn near the bottom, and a pair of those tacky white boxer shorts with love hearts all over them. They actually existed. Who knew?

There wasn’t a long rent available on the place, it was a month to month thing going on because of some “Family issue” that had to do with the last tenant here. I dunno they were pretty closed mouth about it, must have been a tragedy or something. Either way, I had this place now and I didn’t even need to move truckloads in just four boxes of my clothes and other shitty possessions. This place was already nicely furnished, just how I needed it and the couch felt like a fucking cloud under my ass. I even had an awesome view from the huge window in my lounge, not to mention I had private access to the roof, I could do all kinds of shit up there! 

My landlord was a pretty short guy really, and he lived in the only room on the ground floor. It was probably huge. I’m pretty sure he was also married too because I noticed the white gold wedding band on his finger, but the only other person I saw in there with him was this giant ass blonde guy with a badass undercut. The dudes got taste. Either way, his name was Levi or something and he seemed nice enough, just a little cranky. Or maybe that was his natural face and he looked pissed off all of the time, I couldn’t really tell.

Either way, my ass was comfy, and I had fully stocked the fridge with microwave food, snacks and different canned beverages. Unfortunately for my ass it would have to leave the comfy couch cloud for just a minute as I stood up and walked over to my new fridge, reaching in to grab a beer. There were already a few empty cans littered across the coffee table, pretty damn sure it was mahogany. Fancy shit right there- ‘Jean Kirschtein the owner of a mahogany table’ had a nice ring to it. Either way I was celebrating moving in. Congratulations to me. I snorted and closed the door of the fridge as I realised it was getting a little chilly, turning on my heel intending to go back to the nest of blankets and pillows I had made all around my new favourite couch in the world. I’m not even kidding about how awesome it was. Seriously man. Couch cloud, even angels would kill to sit on that thing. What I _wasn’t_ intending to do, was to turn around and see a random guy blocking my path and frowning at my mess.

On reflex, I jumped and opened the can of beer in my hands, the liquid spraying everywhere as I shook it from my surprise. I yelled loudly, and totally _not_ like a twelve year old girl, as I tried not to freak out about the man in my apartment who apparently was just as freaked out as I was, shouting in surprise himself as he held his hands out in front of him in a defensive stance.

“There’s nothing worth stealing here!  There’s nothing valuable! No money! Nothing!” he cried out, taking a step away from me. I nearly felt sorry for the guy if it weren’t for the fact that he was trespassing in my fucking apartment.

“I’m not trying to steal anything.” I tried to reason but the fucker just cut me off again, maybe he was panicking.

“I’m sure there’s a homeless shelter nearby,” he suggested with wide eyes, “I can give you some money for travel fair and a nice meal but please, just don’t blow it on more beer okay?”

I raised my eyebrow at him, what the fuck was going on? Here I was trying to relax and here comes this guy, he looked a little taller with me, and more tan with handfuls of freckles dusting his skin, barging into my apartment pretending like he owned the place. I guess he looked like the kind of guy to own this place, he was wearing a navy button up shirt and grey slacks. The kind of thing I’d never be seen dead wearing.

“Look dude, I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here, but I’m not homeless.” I said to him with the most serious expression I could handle in this situation. “I live here.”

Oh Petra and I were going to have fucking words, I better not find out that my landlord is a fucking fraud and has given the keys to this place to five other fucking people. Like hell am I going to put up with some rent scam.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t live here.” He replied to me, seriously what was it going to take to get this guy to leave? “You can’t live here, because I live here.” He motioned his arm across the room, “This is all of my stuff, my couch, my coffee table...”

He suddenly stopped and stared at the littered coffee table, surrounded by empty beer cans and a pizza box from my lunch earlier that day, before he looked back up at me disapprovingly.

“Is that a ring on my coffee table?” He stormed over to it and stared, looking hurt as if the damn table had feelings. “Haven’t you ever heard of a coaster?”

I stared at him with my mouth agape, the damp beer can still in my hand and a small pool of the liquid now spread out into a puddle on the floor, dampening one of my socks. Wet socks are never fun people, ever. Especially when you forget to take them off before you get in the shower. I hope this guy stood in the puddle with his shoes off.

“I don’t care who you are, you’re going to mop that up.” He rambles on quickly, rushing past me into the kitchen, muttering about getting a bucket.

I looked down at the puddle again, as if glaring at it would make it vanish and dry my sock. It didn’t work so I put my beer down on the nearest surface, without a coaster might I add, seeing as this was my own fucking place and I do what I want, and headed into the kitchen after this random guy.

But he wasn’t there. It was empty, and I just stood there, spinning in one spot looking for him. Now I know that guys are usually all macho and fearless, but fuck you okay because I don’t do scary shit, I don’t do scary movies, stories, games, and I most definitely do not do freaky shit like this.

I wandered around my now empty apartment, really fucking confused as to what the hell was going on. Maybe I had a little more to drink than I thought, sighing as I slumped back down onto my plush red couch. So I was seeing things, a random tall guy, covered in fucking freckles, with dark hair and eyes, and that was totally normal. Totally. There was nothing wrong with having a little hallucination after a few beers. I just hope that was it, and that my new apartment wasn’t fucking haunted.


	2. Forever appearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought that seeing this guy was a one time thing... Boy was I wrong.

So last night was pretty fucking weird, but after my little fiasco in the kitchen with Mister ‘I’m not really here’ the rest of my night went pretty smoothly. And by that I mean I totally passed out on the couch until eleven this morning. Don’t judge me.

I guess I spent most of my morning trying to convince myself that it was my hazy booze filled mind that was making me see crazy things last night. Because c’mon, if it were up to my imagination I’m damn pretty sure I could have come up with something a little more imaginative than a random guy. Even though said guy was pretty fucking bitchy. Seriously.

I rolled off of my plush two seater couch and stumbled into the kitchen to make myself the usual morning cup of coffee. I couldn’t live through a single day without it. I yawned and ruffled my hair which was already suffering from bedhead, well couch-head really. Because y’know; that’s where I slept like a fucking looser, and because of that I definitely needed a shower. I drank my coffee quickly, scalding my tongue on the offending yet glorious liquid before I stepped into the bathroom to have my much needed shower. Usually this was where I would rub one out in the morning but I guess my body wasn’t really used to this new apartment, the little guy was too nervous to come out and play. I looked down at my crotch as the water sprayed over me, the corner of my lip twitching upwards.  

“Better luck tomorrow buddy.” I laughed and continued with my boring ass warm shower.

Everything was going fine until I slid the shower curtain open and let out a startling scream. The guy from last night was back, still looking exactly the same as he had the first time I saw him; and he was standing in my fucking bathroom! I stared at him for a few seconds, my face heating up as I realised that I was as naked as the day I was born. Great.  

“I told you to get out!” He yelled at me as I turned my back to him, trying not to shame myself any further by hiding my lower half with my hands.

I waited for him to complain further, but I was only greeted with an eerily calm silence. I looked over my shoulder and surprise surprise, he was gone. I grabbed the huge fluffy towel I had set out and wrapped it around myself as I padded through my apartment, leaving small damp footprints across the wood flooring as I went. Just as I thought, he was nowhere to be seen. I guess I was going crazy, because I’m pretty damn sure I hadn’t slipped anything into my coffee this morning.

I let out an exasperated sigh and slid my palms over my face. I had to talk to someone.

\--

Yeah I know, don’t laugh. Out of every single person I knew, here I was sitting in a small coffee shop with Eren Jäeger. Fuck off. We sat there silently for a good couple of minutes, enjoying our drinks as we tried to think of a way to start a conversation. The silence was killing me.

“So uh…” I started, not exactly sure how I should finish my sentence. “I’ve started seeing someone.”

He stared at me blankly, with that dumb fucking face of his. How hard was it to understand what I was saying? I move into a new place and BOOM, I start seeing this guy. Well I only saw him twice but I needed someone to clarify that I wasn’t going insane.

“Dude, seriously? That’s all this is about?” He gave me another one of his stupid looks. Ugh I just wanted to punch him in the face. Why is he even my friend? “It’s about time you started seeing someone, after I’ve been trying to set you up for months you finally get someone on your own.”

Fuck, yeah I guess what I said kind of gave him the wrong impression. I rested my elbows on the table and fisted my hands in my hair, why was it so fucking hard to communicate with people?

“I mean, I’m seeing someone that isn’t really there.” I waited for the yelling and over reacting that I was sure was about to head my way, but he just sat there reclined in his seat and stared at me with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that man, I’m having a serious issue here! I saw this guy twice in my apartment!”

“Was he attractive?”

“He wasn’t really there Eren!” Fuck why did he have to be so stupid sometimes? “It was just a hallucination.”

“Were you drunk?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and let out a small sigh. “I was a little buzzed I guess.”

He gave me an unbelieving look and crossed his arms. I could see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, that cocky little shit.

“Okay fine, I had more than a few.”

“It was probably just a one-time thing; you’re probably just tired from the whole moving into a new place thing.” He assured me; of course he wouldn’t really do anything. “Go see a shrink if shit fucks up again.”  

\--

Eren didn’t really help convince me that I wasn’t crazy; all he really did was mention how long it had since I had actually dated. Yeah, two whole years. But it’s not really something that I ever want to think about, it’s a pretty touchy subject y’know? I had my reasons and that’s all anyone needed to know. At least he didn’t pester me about my love life the entire time; we did talk about other things going on in each other’s lives right now, which for the most part was pretty lame on both sides.

I hung my coat up on the hanger by the door as I stepped through the entrance of my apartment. It started raining on my way back and I didn’t have enough money to get a cab so I had to walk, which was why my coat was a lot heavier and dripping small little puddles on the floor. I went into the bathroom and grabbed a small towel before heading back into the hall and throwing it onto the floor under where my coat was dribbling. I wasn’t lazy, I was just exhausted. Mopping could wait until morning.

I walked with a tired slouch towards my bedroom, tugging my damp t-shirt over my head as I went. Which apparently, was not a good idea as I walked into my doorframe. Cursing to the high heavens I untangled myself from t-shirt and continued to used it as a make-shift towel to ruffle my hair with. Ugh my head was pounding but I didn’t want to leave the room again just to go and get some painkillers, instead I just pushed my jeans to the floor; kicking them aside and pulling on my navy sweatpants. I stepped over to the side of the bed and fell backwards, lying horizontally across the comfortable mattress. I stared up at the ceiling and thought over my conversation earlier that day.

“Maybe Eren was right.” I whispered to myself. And if Eren was right then the apocalypse was bound to happen sometime soon. It had been two years since I’ve last been in a relationship, maybe if I had someone they would distract me from having any more hallucinations. I had to frown at that idea, it’s not like I was imagining this guy because I was lonely. I didn’t need an imaginary friend.

“Are you insane? What are you still doing here?”

The world hates me I swear, because every time I think I’m free from my mind this guy comes back to bite me in the ass.

“This is just a dream.” I said to myself out loud, maybe if I repeated it enough I’d finally be alone again to sleep. “It’s just one of those dreams where you know you’re dreaming. Yeah.”

“How do you keep getting in here?”

I turned to glare weakly at him. “It’s you who’s in here!” I yelled and pointed to my head before hiding it under one of the bed pillows. This wasn’t happening. I was losing my mind.

“This is more serious that I thought.” He murmured softy, sitting on the edge of my bed. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I’d like you to answer them truthfully okay?”

I moved the pillows away from my head and looked up at him, he looked calm and had a small sweet reassuring smile across his face. I nodded slowly and gulped, I was sitting in my apartment talking to nobody; yet I went with it anyway.

“Has your recent alcohol consumption risen at all?”

“Maybe a little,” I hesitated. “So what?”

“So are you seeing or hearing things that aren’t exactly real?”

I gave him the most exasperated look I could manage. “As a matter of fact, yes. I am.”

“Have you gone out of your way to consult someone? A friend perhaps?”

“How do you know? Stay away from me!” God he was asking me so many damn questions, I just wanted this to stop.

I looked over at him to see him staring straight at me with those deep chocolate eyes of his, concentrating as if he could word what he wanted to say to me.

“Look, I think that you’ve fantasized quickly convincingly that you have rented an apartment that in fact, belongs to somebody else.” He said to me with a sympathetic look. I didn’t need his sympathy! I lived here, and he wasn’t even real!

He tilted his heat and pointed towards one of the pillows on the bed before continuing. “Pick up that pillow, on the back is a small red stain from where I spilt cough syrup.”

I lifted the pillow and widened my eyes. There it was, a dark red smudge right in the corner of the crème fabric. No _no no no no_ , this couldn’t be happening.

“Everything here is mine, even that picture on the nightstand...” He trailed off and frowned. “Where’s my picture? Did you move my picture?”

“What? It was just like that when I moved in.” so this guy started showing up in my apartment, convinced me that I was crazy, and was now accusing me of theft? _Not_ cool man.

“I’ve had enough of this! I’m calling the police!” He shouted and stood up from the bed. He strode over to the table in the far end of the room to where the phone was and swiped his hand through it. I stared at him in awe as his hand slid straight through the object, without even budging it. He gave me an angry stare; it didn’t look right on him. “What did you do to my phone?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn’t. I sat there mouth gaping open, dumbstruck.

“You just wait right there! I’m going to use the one in the kitchen.” He assured me before stomping off out of the room.

Of course I wasn’t just going to sit there and wait for this guy to get me arrested. He couldn’t anyway! He wasn’t real! I kept the mantra going in my head _‘It’s just in your head Kirschtein, he isn’t real.’_ I told myself this over and over again as I lifted myself off the bed. My legs were trembling anxiously and my heart felt like it was doing the fucking tango in my chest. _‘You can do this Kirschtein, just walk in and tell him to get the fuck out.’_ It sounded simple enough. But how could I do that if he wasn’t there? The kitchen was empty and I nearly sank to the floor out of frustration. I staggered over to the sink and turned on the tap, letting the water flow into the empty basin. _‘Get your head together Jean, he’s gone and you need to stop hallucinating.’_

I cupped my hands under the faucet and let the water fill up before I lowered my head and splashed the cold water up over my face. I did this a couple of times before I leant back against the black granite counter, the wet droplets from my face dripped down over my neck and naked torso as I reclined back and lifted my head to the ceiling with my eyes closed. Everything would be fine if I just concentrated on doing other things. Maybe I just needed a hobby.

As I walked back into my bedroom I couldn’t help but see this man’s face flash across my mind. His face had looked so odd when he was angry, yet when he gave me that smile I felt as if I should have known him. It felt comforting.

_‘You just need more sleep.’_ I convinced myself. And then everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys


	3. New housemate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess I wouldn't be living along any more, thanks to my little ghost problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case here is my tumblr username is SparksReactor.

“Good afternoon, Petra Speaking. How may I help you?” Came the warm welcome from the other end of my phone.

Yeah, I caved. Whatever. I just wanted to find out as much as possible about the last tenant that lived here, maybe that way I could figure out why I was getting little unexpected visits. I wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of having company, it would just be nice if it was the company of someone who was actually, y’know; alive and real.

“I was just wondering, the guys that sublet the apartment. Did they give you a number?” Maybe if I spoke to those people I would get the answers I wanted.

“Is something wrong?” Petra replied, she was always worrying about things. I swear she’s been like a mother hen ever since she started helping me find a new place to live. It was kind of sweet really.

“Uh no, no I’m okay.” I said softly into my phone, I didn’t want her to worry about me. “I just wanted to know a little more about the last tenant that lived here that’s all.”

There was a pause on her end of the phone, before her soft voice picked up. “The woman that I dealt with really didn’t want to talk about it, she said it was some kind of tragedy in the family.”

“So, you think they might have died?” I gulped nervously, that would definitely explain a hell of a lot.

“I guess so, if that’s the case then you’ll be able to get a longer rent on this place soon.”

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, pacing back and forth in my bedroom. The conclusion was, that I might be getting haunted by the last guy who lived here. Doesn’t that just sound _fun._ That meant one thing, it was time to take a visit to my long time bud Connie. Yeah remember that one I was mooching off for a few months? That’s the guy. He worked in this kind of weird ass bookstore that had tons of stuff about supernatural shit. I used to mock him about it but I guess that had come back to bite me in the ass.

No matter how many ways I looked at it, today was going to be one weird ass day. It’s not like normal people would spend their Friday afternoon trying to ask a ghost to kindly leave their house. ‘ _I just have to cross my fingers and hope’_ I thought to myself as I slipped my feet into my old battered pair of red converse sneakers, they totally looked great together with my faded jeans and Rolling Stones shirt. I reached out and grabbed my keys, shoving them in my pocket next to my phone. Didn’t want to forget those. Leaving your phone at home is the worst. I scratched the bridge of my nose and debated having another cup of coffee before I left but I thought better of it.

My coat was still pretty fucking damp from last night, meaning I had to change things up a little. I slipped on my grey zip-up hoodie and pulled my black leather jacket on over that before looking myself up and down in the full length mirror I had hanging in the hallway. Damn I looked good. After winking at myself in the mirror and nodding in approval I hurried out of the door and down the long flights of stairs. Why the fuck did I have to live on the top floor?

It was a huge relief that Connie’s little freakstore wasn’t that far away from the apartment blocks, just a fifteen minute walk. Thank God, because _holy hell_ it was bright outside. Cold as balls, but so fucking bright.

By the time I had reached and entered the old worn looking bookstore I was shielding my eyes from the sun with my sleeve, real classy I know. Luckily the store had very dim lighting and only a couple of people hobbling between the shelves. _Weirdo’s._ I guess I wasn’t really one to judge right now though seeing as I had my own problems at home with Mr.Freckleface.

“Yo Jean! Is that you?” I winced slightly at the volume of Connie’s voice, yup that was him. No way I could ever mistake that voice. “Didn’t think you were into this kind of shit bro.”

“I uh… I’m not.” It wasn’t a complete lie really, it’s not like I _wanted_ to be there. “It’s just I’ve been having some issues at my new apartment.”

“You having problems communicating?”

I had to force my laugh down. “Trust me man, communicating is definitely not his problem.”

 “Awesome,” he chuckled and nodded slowly; scratching his buzz cut little head. I swear this fucker was high, wouldn’t really surprise me. He was a lot of the time when we went to college together.  “I’ve got just what you need.”

I expected him to lead me into the depths of the store, places that I’d _never_ want to go. But we stayed in the front area, the sunlight still strong and beaming through the glass. I was going to get a headache if some clouds didn’t come and cockblock the damn sun any time soon.

As we walked through the front isles, he started to pile books into my arms promising that at least _one_ of them would have something useful in there. All I needed was one damn book that explained how to get rid of a stubborn ghost. Was that really too much to ask for? Apparently so.

Needless to say, walking home with a pile of old battered looking books wasn’t very easy. I stumbled into people a few times getting awkward glances, and every so often I freaked out and had to save a book that was slipping from the top of the pile. I had to resort to resting my chin on the top book to keep them in place as I walked. Fucking Connie couldn’t just give me one useful book could he? I guess that’s not how friends worked. Friends always made life more complicated, but in the end it’s worth it for the fun and memories they bring.

I nearly dropped the whole fucking pile outside my front door. I juggled them as I reached into my pockets to pull out my keys, stabbing myself in the thigh during the process; don’t ask me why I have a keyring of fucking star with extremely pointy edges. At least I’d always know they were still there in my pocket. I walked into my hopefully _empty_ apartment and used my butt to close the door. Not because I’m weird or anything, my hands were full remember?

I dumped the pile of books on the empty coffee table. Yeah I cleaned it; I’m not a pig 100% of the time y’know. The books could wait though, I was not going to start this until I had made myself a fresh cup of coffee. And by fresh I meant that instant jar crap. I shrugged off my jacket and shoes on the way to the kitchen, kicking and throwing them in a heap on the floor. Wouldn’t be needing them, this apartment was pretty fucking warm; something I was extremely grateful for.

Once I had my coffee mug in hand I headed back to my couch, intending to get this shit over with as soon as I possibly could. I felt kind of ridiculous holding a mug with ‘Marco’ written on it in multi-coloured letters, I just only it because it was already here when I moved in and it was a pretty huge mug. I sat down in the middle of the couch and took a sip of my coffee; for the first time in my life I didn’t fucking burn my tongue, before I set it down on the floor next to my feet.

I rubbed my temples and mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do. This was it. I leafed through a couple of the books that proved useless, until I found a small passage in one. It looked hopeful. I settled back in my chair and lit a candle, it could help, you never know. I chanted the words on the page nervously as I waved the candle around in small circles, being careful not to burn myself or get any of the hot wax on my skin.

I felt like a fucking dumbass. Of course nothing happened, I don’t really think I was surprised. Just a little disappointed. But that’s how I got my master plan idea. I chewed on my bottom lip for a couple of seconds contemplating my next actions before I lifted the mug that was next to my foot.

“I have a hot steaming cup of coffee here, and there is no coaster on this table.” I shouted loudly, I hoped my neighbours downstairs couldn’t hear me talking to myself. C’mon this had to work. “I’m going to set it down on this nice mahogany-“

“Don’t you dare!”

“Ahh!” I jumped in my seat and placed my mug down on one of the books to protect the table. I knew that would work! Totally a fucking genius. “We... We need to talk okay?”

He stood in front of me with his arms crossed; a firm frown on his face. “About what?”

“Have you ever thought something might be a little … weird?” I asked him cautiously, but he had no response. “About the way you’ve been spending your days?”

“Yes actually.” Bingo. We were onto something. “There’s a hobo who won’t get out of my apartment.”

Maybe not then. I pulled the coffee mug to my lips and took a large gulp to try and relax myself.

“How about we start over?” I suggested, a hopeful look in my eyes that he would lighten up a little. The poor guy looked so freaked out by now. “My name is Jean Kirschtein, what’s yours?”

He froze, his eyes wide and scared. All I did was ask him what his name was. He looked around wildly and took a small step back before his eyes fixed on the mug I was holding.

“Marco.” He announced quickly. “My name is Marco.”

I looked down at my mug then back to him. Could he even remember who he was? I’m sure I recognised a flash of recognition cross his face as he looked at the mug. Maybe he’d forgotten a lot about his past and needed some triggers or whatever. I don’t know how that shit worked.

“Marco… What’s the last thing you remember?” I winced inwardly, it was totally an awkward question but I needed to get to the bottom of it. “When was the last time you spoke to someone other than me?”

“… The other day.” He hesitated. That wasn’t really a good sign for him.

“So what do you do with the rest of your day?”

I placed my mug back down on the make-shift book coaster and looked at him expectantly. I stared into his eyes slightly mesmerised, he seemed lost. It must be pretty lonely for him, being a ghost and all. But why was I the only one that could see him? It just didn’t make any sense.

“Probably a lot more than you do.” He finally answered, his arms still firmly crossed over his chest. He stood awkwardly proving that he was uncomfortable with the situation. We both were.

“Has anything dramatic happened to you lately?” I gulped nervously, rubbing the shaved part of my hair at the back of my head. “Like dying maybe?”

His face fell and he look at me with terror swimming across his features. I automatically felt guilty; I didn’t want him to look like that because of something I had said. But he needed to know. Maybe that way he could pass one and all that jazz. The whole going into the light bullshit.

“H-how dare you say that to me!”

I stood up and reached out to grab his arm, I could actually feel him. He felt real, just slightly colder than I was. How could I actually feel him if he couldn’t even pick up the phone? He retracted his arm away from me immediately as if it had burnt him.

“Don’t touch me you pervert!” He yelped and cradled the arm I had touched close to his chest. He stepped backwards and I followed him.

“Marco I’m just trying to help you realise that you might be…” I trailed off; I didn’t particularly want to say the word.

“I’m not dead!” He shouted at me, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle in the most adorable way.

“Look around you Marco, do you see a bright light?” I asked seriously and I followed him into the kitchen. He was walking backwards to keep an eye on me at all times, I didn’t really blame him.

“There is no light!” Marco yelled as he kept walking backwards. I stood and gawped at him as he stood in the middle of the table in the kitchen. He looked down horrified. “What’s happening to me?”

“Marco… you’re dead.”

He surged forward and slapped me. Holy _fuck_ I felt that! So he couldn’t touch another else but he could fucking hit me? What the hell was even going on? During my rambling I didn’t noticed that his shoulders had slumped in defeat, and in the moment I think we both understood and accepted the hard truth.

“I’m not leaving.” Was the last thing he said to me that night.

Boy, oh boy was living here going to be difficult.


End file.
